Why actors are a different breed

Nick Grennell (60) is an actor. Born in Dublin, his parents were well-known actors – Aiden Grennell and Iris Lawler. He lives in Wexford with his wife Michelle and their daughters – Olivia and Sophia (both 10) and Lucy (seven)

At the moment, I’m living in Dublin. I’m in an apartment on the northside. It’s great, because I am local. I bought myself a bike especially, so that I can whiz in and out of the theatre. I play Abanazar in

Aladdin at the Gaiety panto.

I have my shower and a good healthy breakfast — porridge, hummus on toast, Greek yoghurt and honey and tea. I’m not normally a healthy eater, but I’m very conscious of what I eat because of the pantomime. You need stamina.

Dublin is a nightmare on the bike. I’m used to Wexford, where it is all nice and calm. That’s where I normally live, with my wife Michelle and our three daughters, but for three months of the year, I come up to Dublin to do the pantomime. It’s great because it’s a bit of me-time.

When we moved from Dublin to Wexford, I had a good 30 years under my belt as an actor. But there is no professional existence for actors in Wexford, so I had to make a choice. Michelle had just come out of college in London and she wanted to pursue music. So she went out to work — she’s a cellist — and I stayed at home to mind the kids. The twins were handed to me at five weeks and I had no idea what I was stepping into, but you just do it. And it was fine. I didn’t work for four years. When you have a family, you leave your identity behind a bit because you are so busy focusing on them. Family is fantastic but it’s nice to be able to express yourself, too.

After a while, I just felt that a part of my life was missing and I wanted to go back to where my heart was — the theatre. I started in the Gaiety panto in 2013 and this is my sixth one. My daughters are pretty blasé about me being in it, but I think quietly they are delighted.

I’ve been doing panto all my life. My first one was supposed to be with

Maureen Potter, but she pulled out of it because she had a dickie knee. I regret that I never got to work with her. But I’ve been in pantomimes with so many great performers — the darling Anita Reeves was a joy, and then Twink came and made her mark. She was super and had buckets of energy.

I used to be the principal boy. In fact, I was well past my best-before date — I was 37 — when I did my last principal boy. I’ve had a lash at all of them — Sinbad,

Robinson Crusoe and Dick Whittington — but you grow out of them. It’s great fun being the baddie, and I give it as much as I’ve got. Sometimes we do a meet-andgreet after the show and some children are very scared at the sight of me, so I have to disappear. They want to see the princess.

I love the way panto gives us the opportunity to interact with the audience. For me, the most important thing about it is that it’s most kids’ first introduction to live theatre. I’ve had lots of adults approach me saying that their first experience of theatre was seeing me on stage. You might think, ‘it’s only kids’ but they are very discerning. It has to be good.

In the beginning with rehearsals, my main goal is to learn my lines. I always say that with panto, you have to know them like your prayers backwards because you will be so wrecked all the way through this, you can’t rely on recall. They have to just spill out of you. I know that it’s a muscle but it’s really tricky learning your lines.

My parents were both actors — Aiden Grennell and Iris Lawler. They met when they were acting in the Gate Theatre. Apparently, they couldn’t stand each other at first. Then they went on tour and everything changed. I never saw my mum act on stage. She moved to television — she was Anastasia in Tolka Row —butI ended up acting with my dad.

In our family home, it was a very normal background and there was never any attitude of being actors at all. I grew up with my mum learning lines and when I was older, I’d be running lines with my dad. I remember he used to get very irate if he tripped over lines and we’d keep our heads down when he was learning them. It’s pretty much like that with my kids, too, when I’m learning mine.

I like to get into the theatre an hour before we need to be there. I’m crippled with nerves beforehand, and the older I get, the more nervous I get. You might think that it’s only panto but there’s a huge amount to remember and get right. We take it hugely seriously.

Every time I hear that overture, my heart starts to pump and the sweat starts to happen. Then it’s show-time. For all their screens and exposure to the internet, I think that kids are still kids. A baddie is a baddie and if there is dark, devious music, it’s scary.

At the end, we all love applause. Then I go for a couple of pints in Neary’s, no more than a couple, because you’re up to do two shows the next day. There’s a huge amount of camaraderie at the end. I phone home after the show and then I try to switch off. But your lines are always tripping in your head.

When my dad died, I went on stage that night. I wasn’t being heroic. It was just two-and-a-half hours away from real life. Of course, I was upset, but I had to park it. When we say, the show must go on, it’s not necessarily about the punters. It’s about the actor and the mental commitment that you make to the theatre. I think that’s why we are a different breed. Going on stage that night helped me more than hindered me. I needed to remove myself from reality.

“Pantomime is most kids’ first introduction to live theatre, so it has to be good”